


A.I. - Artificial Interest

by deltorafray



Category: Iron Man (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Adult Peter Parker, Anal Sex, Bottom Peter Parker, Emotional Sex, Established Peter Parker/Tony Stark, Established Relationship, M/M, Mild Angst, Peter's exact age is not specified but he's out of high school, Somewhat Plot Heavy, Top Tony Stark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-21
Updated: 2020-07-12
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:27:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24842272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deltorafray/pseuds/deltorafray
Summary: Tony is in a coma and Peter is trying to get him back. Meanwhile, unbeknownst to Peter, Tony created an artificial intelligence based on himself which got activated in the event of his incapacitation. Peter employs the A.I. to help him figure out what’s wrong with Tony because who better to solve the mystery of Tony’s condition than Tony himself? The Tony A.I., having been developed before Tony and Peter got together, is intrigued at what is essentially his future self, someone who’s managed to settle down into a committed relationship.This is set in a mashup universe, inspired by and taking elements from MCU and the comic books, particularly Invincible Iron Man and Civil War II.
Relationships: Peter Parker/Tony Stark
Comments: 30
Kudos: 135





	1. Chapter 1

Peter’s armchair in Tony’s room-turned-hospital-ward is comfortable enough. He’s even slept in it a few times in the beginning until Happy arranged for a cot to be moved into a corner of the expansive room. The chair is angled so it’s facing the bed and it’s both a painful and comforting thing, being able to see Tony lying there, unconscious, a feeding tube taped to the side of his nose, electrodes attached to his chest and connected to a machine that beeps softly once in a while. Peter gets anxious when he can’t see Tony in front of him, alive, barely, but alive. But seeing his still form is a constant reminder that Tony is in a coma, has been in a coma for the past 17 days, and doesn’t show any signs of coming out of it.

That’s why Peter is sitting in that chair, meticulously going through Tony’s comprehensive yet frustratingly tangential notes on whatever the fuck it was he did to himself. Experimenting on himself? And keeping it a secret from Peter? Peter doesn’t think he’s ever been so angry at the man. But that’s why he’s trying to find answers in Tony’s notes. If he can figure out what happened, then he can figure out how to bring him back. Then he can properly yell at him about all this.

Peter’s phone vibrates. He sees the caller ID.

“Hey, Riri, what’s up?”

 _“Hey, uh, are you busy?”_ She sounds a little freaked out. Without waiting for an answer she continues, _“Can you come over?”_

Peter frowns. “Are you okay?”

_“Oh yeah, no, I’m fine. It’s just … I think there’s something you should see.”_

Another voice can be heard from the other line. _“You know he doesn’t have to come all the way here. If you connect me up with F.R.I.D.A.Y. I can enter the compound.”_

Peter freezes. That voice.

Riri’s voice sounds a little far away, like she’s talking to the voice instead of Peter. “ _Wait, you can do that?”_

_“Sure. You gotta authorize it though.”_

Peter’s heart is pounding as he glances at Tony lying there unmoving on the bed. He’d know that voice anywhere. It’s unmistakeable. But it can’t be.

_“Me?”_

“Riri,” Peter calls urgently, trying to get her attention back.

 _“Yep,”_ the voice answers in the background. _“You have user access. Tony’s got F.R.I.D.A.Y., Peter’s got Karen, and you’ve got … me!”_

“Riri!” Peter shouts into his phone.

 _“Yeah, I’m here! Sorry.”_ Riri is back to talking to him now.

“Stay put. I’ll be right there.”

\--

Riri opens her garage door. “You took the Quinjet?” she asks when he sees Peter standing there. She has that look on her face, a familiar one that Peter used to make whenever Tony did something he deemed unnecessarily ostentatious. With Tony … indisposed, Peter has basically taken over Tony’s role in the Avengers and S.H.I.E.L.D., which includes unrestricted access to resources like the Quinjet.

Peter shrugs. “It’s fastest.” He steps into Riri’s garage-slash-workshop, looking around. It’s organized chaos, smelling faintly of singed metal. There’s an untouched sandwich on a plate that looks like it’s been sitting there for a few hours. Tony’s protégé, indeed. It’s a familiar environment that makes Peter’s chest ache. “So where’s …”

“Right, it’s uh …” Riri leads him to her bench where a box sits opened. “A courier dropped it off. I don’t know who, he just showed up and left before I could ask anything. And when I opened it …” She trails off, showing Peter what’s in the box.

It’s a metal panel with a large round blue button in the middle and a not-at-all-suspicious note above it saying “PUSH ME!”.

Peter raises an eyebrow at Riri. “Let me guess, you pushed it?”

“It said to push!”

“It wouldn’t have worked on _you_ , Pete. But Riri, here? Curious, reckless girl like her? Tony knew she wouldn’t be able to resist.”

There’s that voice again. Peter whips around and gets the breath knocked out of him at what he sees. “Tony?” he breathes.

“Yep. In the not-so-flesh. Sort of. His essence … in essence.” The voice was coming from a life-size hologram of Tony Stark. It was him, from the playfully raised eyebrow, the smug little smirk, to the arms-spread-wide stance that Tony adopts whenever he’s about to unveil some ingenious thing he came up with. “I downloaded my fabulous self into a digital frame in case my body was ever … you know, not working anymore.”

“Yeah, so after I pushed the button, this guy showed up,” Riri explains to Peter.

A maelstrom of emotions is going through Peter right now. His heart is leaping at the sight of what looks like Tony smiling at him, speaking to him. He’s wary, his shackles are up, trying to anticipate potential threats from all this. He’s so angry that there’s yet another thing Tony did that he’s kept from Peter. But it’s _Tony_. That’s Tony’s voice. That’s Tony’s smile, directed at him, and god, he’s missed it so damn much.

“So … you’re not real?” Peter finally asks.

“I’m an advanced artificial intelligence construct.”

Peter huffs out a breath, collapsing onto Riri’s work chair, wiping a hand over his face and covering his mouth. How is this a thing that’s happening right now? _Tony, why would you do this?_ He feels Riri place a comforting hand on his shoulder from where she’s leaning on the bench next to him.

Seemingly sensing Peter’s distress, the Tony-hologram speaks again, “I’m not purely intelligence coding. Not like Karen, or F.R.I.D.A.Y. I’m the digitized consciousness of an actual human person.” He grins that Tony-grin. “It’s genius, really.”

Riri snorts. “Well that’s super on-brand of the big man, making an A.I. of himself, that looks like himself, and making it blow praises up his own ass.”

Peter chuckles weakly. He can’t look at the Tony-hologram, but at the same time he can’t stop looking. Aside from the fact that he’s glowing faintly blue, he looks exactly like Tony, like he used to when he was healthy anyway. Currently, Tony - the real Tony, the one lying in bed unconscious back in New York - is pale and gaunt, with deep bags under his closed eyes. Hologram-Tony is fit and vibrant, the way Tony used to be before the coma.

“No offence, Peter,” Riri says. “But this is pretty fucked up, even for him.”

“It wasn’t meant to be this way,” Holo-Tony says to her. “You need an A.I. for your suit. I was supposed to help you with that, work on it together. But since I can’t now …” Peter flinches. “It’s just a contingency plan. You know how I love those.”

“No, it’s still pretty fucked up,” Riri remarks with a thoughtful nod. “Sorry, boss," she tells the A.I, "but this is pretty weird. I’m not gonna hang out with a Tony Stark A.I. when Peter’s back in New York taking care of-“

Peter breaks out of his reverie. “Hey, whoa, me? What do _I_ gotta do with this?”

Riri looks uncomfortable and she’s glancing at Peter with something that looks horrifyingly like pity.

Pretending not to notice, Peter turns back to the A.I.. “When did Tony create you?” he asks.

“His last update was September 21st 2015.”

“We haven’t even met then. How did he know to make an A.I. for me?” Riri wonders.

“Because he didn’t make it specifically for you,” Peter answers grimly. “This was just a general ‘in case I die’ thing, to wrap up whatever unfinished business he may have. And let’s face it, this is Tony, none of his business is ever finished. He’s always up to something. There’s always something-“ he cuts off to take a deep breath, feeling that familiar surge of anger bubbling up in him again.

Peter thought they were past this. He thought Tony knew that Peter was in it for the long-haul, that he accepted him for all his neuroticism and manic paranoia, that Peter trusted him with every fibre of his being. He thought Tony reciprocated that trust and allowed Peter into his life, to share his hopes and fears and problems so that they can face them together. Peter thought he knew him.

He addresses the A.I. again. “Do you know about Tony’s biological experimentation on his body?”

Holo-Tony tilts his head. “I know everything Tony knows up to my last update. But I don’t recall planning any kind of self-experimentation. Sounds like a terrible idea.”

“At least we agreed on that at one point in our life,” Peter mutters.

Holo-Tony keeps staring at Peter intently. It’s really disconcerting. “I also have all of Tony Stark’s mental faculties. I’m sure whatever it is, we can figure it out.”

“Uh, I know I said it’s fucked up, but I thought you were supposed to be _my_ A.I.?” Riri points out, a finger in the air.

“I am. I can do both. I’m not human. I can do lots of things, be in multiple places at once.” Holo-Tony shrugs.

Peter looks up at Riri. “Look, it’s up to you if you wanna use the A.I. or not, but he’s right, you need an A.I. to pilot your suit. I’d help you with it, but programming’s not really my thing. And with this whole deal with Tony…”

“Hey, no, I get it,” Riri says understandingly. “I’m not expecting you to- hey, I can fly just fine without an A.I., I don’t know what he’s talking about.”

Peter gives her a small smile. “Didn’t you almost crash into the bay last week?” When Riri sputters indignantly, Peter says, “your Mom texts me sometimes.” Peter sighs heavily. “Look, again, it’s up to you what you wanna do with the A.I.. But can you- connect him to F.R.I.D.A.Y., will you?

Riri hesitates. “You sure it’s a good idea being around an A.I. of Mr. Stark when he’s…”

“Tony’s not gone. He’s not dead,” Peter says, maybe a little harshly. He takes a deep breath. “You know I’ve been trying to figure out Tony’s experiment on himself, and I’m getting nowhere on my own. This Tony- the A.I. will give me insight on what’s going on inside Tony’s head. I need his help to get him back. Please.”

Riri huffs. “Alright fine. Stop it with the eyes. You don’t have to do that, I’m not Tony.”

\--

Back in the Avengers compound, in Tony’s room, standing over the bed where Tony is lying unmoving the same way as when he left him, Peter calls for the A.I..

Hologram-Tony materializes in the room. “You rang, boss?”

Peter ignores the way Holo-Tony’s transparent form looks like a ghost standing over Tony’s unconscious body. He gestures at the holo-pad that holds Tony’s notes. “Take a look at that and tell me what you think.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> • Most of the events that happened in MCU is irrelevant here, but obviously Tony isn’t dead. He never got married with Pepper or had a kid with her.  
> • Riri Williams is Ironheart, teenage genius who built an Iron Man suit at MIT using stolen parts. Tony heard about her and took her under his wing, mentoring her on superhero-ing (sounds familiar, no?)  
> • Tony being in a coma and bequeathing his A.I. to Riri is a plot point in Invincible Iron Man, and I took some quotes for his intro directly from the comic book.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter and Tony's A.I. try to brainstorm what's happening with Tony. It's not going well.

_18 Days Ago_

“We don’t know what’s wrong.”

That’s not something Peter ever wants hear come out of Dr. Cho’s mouth, especially when it pertains to Tony.

The mission was successful in the end. Bad guys apprehended, their leader in S.H.I.E.L.D.'s custody. They had some serious alien-based tech and were way over their heads. The energy core destabilized and almost took out an entire city block if it weren't for Tony taking it and ...

“The surgery went well, no major organ damage. But we’ve had to keep him heavily sedated. Every time we try weaning him off, his blood pressure and heart rate go through the roof. We’re afraid he’d stroke out. Usually, a dose of sedatives this high on a man Tony’s size? He’d have respiratory depression by now. But the doses we’re giving him is just enough to keep him under and keep his vitals stable.”

Peter is sitting next to Tony’s bed, holding his hand. He senses that there’s more that Dr. Cho wants to say so he looks up at her. “What is it?” he asks.

“When you said he was exposed to gamma rays, we did a PET scan using a tracer we’ve been developing. It’s based on the distinct cellular hypermetabolisms that come with enhanced strength, agility, and healing.”

“You thought the gamma rays were gonna give him superpowers?”

“You never know these days with radiation. Sometimes you get the Hulk, sometimes you get Spider-man.”

“And what did you find?”

“His entire body lit up with it, though in lower levels than what you’d expect with someone like Steve Rogers, or, well, you.”

Peter huffs impatiently. “Okay so if the metabolic changes aren’t that significant, then why is his body freaking out? Why does he have to be put in a medically-induced coma?”

“There’s something else.”

“Of course there is.”

“There’s evidence of multiple systemic viral infections, something artificial, not your run-of-the-mill seasonal influenza. And it looks chronic, a repeated infection in more or less regular intervals, probably over months, maybe even a year.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

Dr. Cho looks grim. “Either someone’s been dosing Tony with a virus without him knowing, which we both know isn’t likely. Or Tony’s been experimenting on himself.”

\--

_Present Day_

“What do you mean that’s not it?”

Holo-Tony scrolls through the holo-pad with lazy gestures of his arm. Why he does it is beyond Peter. As an A.I. user interface connected to F.R.I.D.A.Y., he’s in the system already with full access to all the data. He doesn’t need to mime “reading” to process them. Barely a minute passed since Peter asked him to take a look.

“These are files on Extremis,” Holo-Tony explains. “Genetic manipulation through nanotech. Some idiot from Advanced Idea Mechanics wanted to do the super-soldier thing, which historically, has _always_ ended well … This was before we met.”

“I know about that. These notes aren’t about Extremis,” Peter interrupts. “Or maybe it is, I haven’t read up much about it. But what’s in these notes- this is definitely what’s going on with Tony. All the markers are there. Even the timelines match up.”

“Well, these files are definitely about a super-soldier thing. Super-strength, check. Super-speed, check. Super-healing, check. And yet, that’s not what’s happening to Tony right now. Look at him, does he look like Steve Rogers?”

“Well, no,” Peter admits. Tony looks like the opposite of a super-soldier. Peter hates to see it, but Tony looks like a frail old man, lying there in his sick bed. “But maybe that’s what’s _supposed_ to happen. Maybe something went wrong cause the radiation screwed it all up-“

“I ran the models. If Extremis was exposed to the kind of radiation Tony got blasted with, 99.9% chance he’d be deep-fried dead, with the remaining 0.1% chance he’d be turning big, green, and angry.”

“Dr. Cho said Tony’s been injecting himself with a virus that modified his DNA. The radiation must have jump-started the mutation and now he’s … whatever’s going on here.”

“She’s probably right. I got her logs right here and her hypothesis is sound. But I’m telling you, these notes are about Extremis, which is nanotech, not a virus.”

“Could he have developed the virus based on the Extremis nanotech though? Maybe there’s still a clue in there somewhere.”

“He could. Hell, I could right now, if you wanted. But I don’t think that’s what he did here. The problem with A.I.M.’s Extremis is its unstable delivery system. A well-programmed virus planting it right in the genome would fix it fine and easy. But then you would’ve seen Tony beat you at arm wrestling months ago. It would’ve worked. Whatever this is, didn’t. Tony’s goal here wasn’t to make a super-soldier of himself.”

“Well what _was_ his goal then?” Peter raises his voice frustratedly. “You’re supposed to be him, right? Can you tell me what the fuck he was thinking when he did this to himself? Cause I sure as hell don’t.” He collapses into his usual armchair and glares at Tony’s still form with his jaw clenched. “You think you know a guy,” he says quietly.

“We’ll figure it out,” Holo-Tony assures him.

\--

They didn’t figure it out that night, the next day, or the day after that. The Tony A.I. refused to entertain the notes Peter has been poring over for the past two weeks, claiming it has nothing to do with anything. The A.I. gets into discussions with Dr. Cho, suggesting various and sundry laboratory and radiology tests, none of it resulting in any satisfying answers.

The A.I. turns to a psychological approach, reasoning that every one of his innovations are borne out of necessity, a dire problem for him to fix. Figure out the problem, then he, as an artificial intelligence with Tony Stark’s brain, can identify exactly what Tony would do in the situation.

“I don’t know!” Peter says for the umpteenth time as he sits in the living room with Holo-Tony. “He’s been annoyed at the coffee machine for weeks, there’s some PR issues with some guy from accounting about a homophobic facebook post or something, but there hasn’t been any big, world-threatening problem that warrants anything like _this_.”

“And he hasn’t been acting strange lately, or just different maybe?”

Peter clenches his jaw. He hates feeling like this. He and Tony have been together for almost two years, living together at the Avengers’ quarters in the compound for most of it. They woke up together, worked in the lab, went out to dinner, did missions for S.H.I.E.L.D., went to bed together. And somehow Peter hasn’t noticed that Tony’s been tampering with his biology for a good part of it, hasn’t noticed that there was something bothering his boyfriend so much that he went and _did that_. He’s questioning his own view of their time together, questioning the depth of their relationship, Tony’s feelings and trust for him, and he _hates_ it.

“I’d say no. But I’m starting to think my word is worth shit when it comes to Tony,” Peter says bitterly.

“Well that’s not helpful,” Holo-Tony quips.

Peter abruptly stands up and stalks off into Tony’s room. He can’t deal with this right now.

Unfortunately, F.R.I.D.A.Y. is connected to every room in the compound, and since A.I. Tony is connected to F.R.I.D.A.Y., he materializes in the room just the same.

“We’re done for now. I’m not talking to you anymore.” Peter doesn’t look up at the hologram as he sits in his armchair, leaning on Tony’s bed with his arms crossed, resting his head on them, gazing up at the man lying on it.

Holo-Tony stands there for a whole minute, before finally saying, “Alright,” then fizzes out of sight.

Peter knows he’s still there. He’s integrated into the system, he’s everywhere. But at least he doesn’t have to look at him right now.

\--

One morning, Peter enters the living room to find Rhodey and Natasha speaking with the Tony A.I..

“Hey,” Peter greets them uncertainly, glancing between the corporeal people sitting on the couch and the hologram standing before them. “You guys are back.”

“Yeah, wrapped it up quick once we got your message,” Natasha says. “I know you said Tony made an A.I. of himself, but I didn’t think- this is-“

“It’s fucked up, is what it is,” Rhodey supplies. “And what’s with the hologram? You don’t see F.R.I.D.A.Y. walking around in a sensible dress. He’s so narcissistic that he’s gotta project himself into being?”

“Yeah, I don’t know,” Peter mutters, padding over to the kitchen to pour himself a cup of coffee. “It’s kinda nice though. Feels like talking to an actual person.” The common room is an open plan, which means Peter can see into the living area from his position in the kitchen and see how Rhodey and Natasha are exchanging uneasy glances.

“Hey, Pete,” Rhodey begins carefully. “When’s the last time you left the compound?”

“A couple days ago actually. Went to visit Riri Williams in Cambridge, to pick _him_ up.” Peter gestures to the Holo-Tony with his mug.

“Right, he’s supposed to be her suit’s A.I.,” Natasha says. She turns to Holo-Tony. “How’s she doing?”

“Hm? Oh she’s not using me anymore,” Holo-Tony says casually.

“What? It’s barely been a week!” Peter says, walking over to sit on the sofa opposite Rhodey and Natasha.

“And in that time, she used a template of my coding to create her own program. It’s crude as hell. Just enough to help her fly the suit and create combat algorithms, but none of the charm and personality. She doesn’t like me that much. Thinks I talk too much.” Holo-Tony pouts a little and Peter chuckles.

“You _are_ an acquired taste,” Peter says, smiling.

Holo-Tony grins back at Peter, a cheerful, self-satisfied thing that’s so familiar and so _Tony_ , that Peter’s heart thuds a little. Or maybe it’s just the caffeine. He wishes Rhodey and Natasha would be a little more subtle with their secret, troubled looks to each other though. He knows they’re worried about him, but what is he supposed to do? Tony is both in a coma and standing in front of him, smiling at him like that, and Peter’s tired and he’s only had half his cup of coffee.

Peter clears his throat and looks down at his mug. “I guess I’m not surprised. She reverse-engineered an entire Iron Man suit in her dorm room at MIT. Doing the same to an A.I. shouldn’t be that hard for her.”

The conversation continues lightly after that; Rhodey and Natasha telling Peter about their mission, Rhodey quizzing the Tony A.I. about memories from ‘the good old days’, Natasha deftly steering topics away from the current conditions of the real Tony, who’s still lying unconscious just a door away. Peter appreciates the sentiment, but no amount of small talk or coffee could ever stop him from thinking, worrying, ruminating about Tony and how to get him back. After a while, he excuses himself from the living area and retreats back into Tony’s room.

_6 weeks ago_

“I’m the boss, you know. People can’t tell me what to do.”

Tony is lying on his back on their bed, while Peter stands at the foot of it, carefully folding T-shirts into an open suitcase. Tony’s feet are propped up on the headboard with his head towards the centre of the mattress so he’s looking upside down at Peter.

“No, Pepper’s the boss,” Peter reminds him, counting the number of shirts he’s packed, then going into the walk-in closet to retrieve some more. “ _She_ gets to tell you what to do, especially when it comes to big deal company events like this.”

“Exactly. Company stuff. The company which, last I checked, still has _my_ name on it. You know, if that still means anything to anyone.”

“Of course it means something. If it didn’t, you wouldn’t even need to show up to these things in the first place.”

“Hm. Potts Industries doesn’t have quite the same ring to it, you’re right. Hey, here’s an idea!” Tony exclaims cheerfully. “How ‘bout you come with me! Tell me again why you’re leaving me to the wolves? Me, your sweet, devoted, hard-working, boyfriend who just wants to spend some lovely quality time with-“

Peter smirks. “I told you, I can’t. I have homework.”

Tony groans, shaking his head. “Not that again.”

“I’m sorry. I promised Ms. Hill that I’d take a look at the black market weapons they confiscated. They think it might be some bastardized alien tech.” Peter retrieves Tony’s travel toiletries bag from their bathroom and rifles through it, making sure it’s got everything he’ll need.

“You know, I am, in fact, also an Avenger. Founding member, to be precise. I should be helping. S.H.I.E.L.D. stuff should take precedence over some schmooze-fest of a gala. Let’s get Hill to talk to Pepper and-“

Peter looks up and gives him a look.

“No, you’re right. Bad precedence,” Tony admits. He groans petulantly. “Ugh, I don’t wanna go!” He kicks his feet for good measure.

“Stop sulking. It’s just three days. Barely, since you’ll be flying back first thing on your third day.”

“Yeah? Then how come you’re packing a week’s worth of stuff?”

“Cause I know you like to have choices. You don’t really need to be buying out an entire boutique store in Seoul just cause you feel like you have nothing to wear.” Peter holds up two pairs of cufflinks. “Which one?” he asks. “I packed you the grey Zegna with the red tie but I can’t decide if-“

“Who cares? Just chuck ‘em both in,” Tony said without looking, picking at his fingernail.

Peter rolls his eyes, but does as he says. Then he heads over to the cabinet and pulls open a drawer, regarding the many, _many_ expensive-looking designer time-pieces glimmering up at him. “You’re gonna have to choose which one of these you wanna bring though cause I have no idea. And it’s one thing buying out an entire clothing store, but I will _not_ have you buying several car’s worth of watches just cause you-“

Peter hears the mattress creak behind him, then Tony’s arms are winding around his waist, chin hooked over his shoulder, body draped close over his back.

“Hmm,” Tony hums, the vibrations the sound makes reverberating from his chest to Peter’s back. Peter shivers, feeling Tony’s neatly trimmed beard scraping over his neck. “The Patek, I think. You know the one.”

Peter blushes. Tony has several Pateks. But this particular one, a handsome platinum band with ruby-set bezels and dials, there’s only five in existence and Tony has two of them. And then he had them further customized, modifying one of the faces to a deep navy blue for Tony, and the other a pale, yellow gold for Peter. Spider-man and Iron Man’s colours. It’s deeply sappy and Tony had flushed as red as his suit when he presented them to Peter on their anniversary.

Tony wants to wear his Spider-man watch. “It matches the tie, right?” Tony shrugs nonchalantly. “Though I think the watch will be sad that his partner won’t be going with him, don’t you think?”

Peter turns in Tony’s arms and kisses him deeply, sweetly. “I’m still not going, unfortunately,” he murmurs against his boyfriend’s lips. “But you’re welcome to take both if you feel that strongly about it.”

Tony presses Peter against the cabinet and lifts him up by the thighs so that Peter’s legs wrap around him as they continue kissing. Tony carries him to the bed and lowers him on it, crawling over him instantly and covering Peter’s body with his.

“I think there’s one more thing you forgot to pack,” Tony says between kisses. His hands roam over Peter’s thighs, hitching them up until his knees are by his ears. “You’re so flexible, baby. I could just fold you right up and squeeze you in with my boxers.”

Peter hums, sinking into the kiss. His legs tighten their hold of Tony’s torso and in one swift, powerful movement, flips them over until he’s the one straddling over a breathless Tony. The other man looks up at him with a mixture of wonder and arousal. Peter leans down and cups Tony’s face with both hands, pressing a firm, reassuring kiss on his lips.

“What’s wrong, Tony?” Peter asks quietly, searching into Tony’s deep brown eyes. “You’re not usually this …”

“Clingy? Pathetic?” Tony suggests with a self-deprecating smile.

“I was gonna say ‘difficult’.”

“Difficult is my middle name.”

“Ah, yes, one of the lesser-known Anglo-Saxon derivations of Edward. How’d I forget?” Peter says, running his fingers to the grey strands speckling at Tony’s temple. Peter loves those, it makes him look distinguished, aristocratic, and really fucking hot. “Are you worried about something?”

Tony grabs one of Peter’s hands and kisses the palm. “I’ll just miss you, is all. I don’t see the point of being anywhere without you. Feels like a waste of time.” Tony closes his eyes and continues pressing soft kisses over Peters’ hands, his wrist. “I know we see each other all the time and I know this is probably unhealthy and I know you probably want space, but-“

“Hey, it’s not about wanting space. I wanna be with you all the time too. But we have all the time in the world. It’s just three days. And I’ll be right here.” Peter kisses him. “Waiting for you. I always will.”

Tony kisses him back fervently. “You’re it for me, you know that, Pete?” he whispers, a fingertrip tracing lightly over Peter’s cheek.

“I know, Tony. I know.”

_Present day_

“I’m here, Tony. I’m right here, can you hear me?” Peter asks this several times a day, every day, with Tony’s hand held tight in his, gazing intently at his lover’s face, willing with all his might that this time would be the time Tony opens his eyes and answers him. He never does.

Nurses come and go sometimes, to take his vitals or change his sheets. But mostly Peter is left alone with him. He’d talk aloud, not sure if Tony could even pick up voices let alone understand them. Peter would tell him about his day, stuff he’s been working on in the lab, missions the other Avengers are working on, funny memes Ned sends him occasionally. Sometimes when he’s feeling emotional, Peter would talk about his feelings, his anger, his crippling worry, his crushing sadness.

Tony’s a fixer. It’s a bad habit of his to jump up and try to make things better when Peter’s feeling upset, even if all he needed was an ear to listen to him vent. Tony’s all about the grand gestures, but while well-intentioned, is sometimes misplaced and often embarrassingly excessive.

 _Now would be a great time for one of those grand gestures now, Tony,_ Peter thinks. _Just come back to me. Please, just come back to me_.

“Peter, Ms. Romanoff has signed on the roster for the reconnaissance mission regarding Clash,” F.R.I.D.A.Y. informs him.

Peter feels a little guilty. He was supposed to be taking point on that mission, but that was before this whole situation with Tony. “Noted, Fri. Let her know that the upgraded Widow’s Bites are in the lab and to take a few pairs of the sonic blockers. Just in case.”

“Will do, Boss,” F.R.I.D.A.Y. confirms.

“You know, when I was a vibrant, young man such as yourself, I did much better things on a Saturday night than arranging covert ops and sitting by an old man’s bedside.” A.I. Tony’s voice emits through the room’s speakers though his holo-self doesn’t materialize.

“You mean getting smashed and causing a scandal that pays for tabloid employees’ Christmas bonuses?”

“Several scandals, in fact,” A.I. Tony corrects. “It was great fun.”

“I’m sure it was,” Peter says absent-mindedly.

“Come on, it’ll do you good to get out of the compound for a few hours. Suit up and patrol or something. Get that adrenaline going. Get some fresh air.”

Peter sighs. “What’s with the mother-henning? F.R.I.D.A.Y. isn’t on my ass about getting fresh air. Are you following some kind of protocol Tony programmed in you?”

The A.I. is quiet. Peter looks up at the ceiling expectantly.

“Not in so many codes. I have pretty loose guidelines in my programming. You know, much like you puny humans.”

“That’s reassuring,” Peter mutters. “So what, you’re just genuinely looking out for my well-being?”

“It appears so. You’ve tasked me with unravelling the great puzzle that is Mr. Comatose over there. But all your moping is kinda distracting.”

Peter snorts. “Whatever happened to ‘doing lots of things, being in multiple places at once.’? You’re not even working with Riri anymore.”

“You’re just that distracting, apparently.”

“So cover up your sensors or whatever,” Peter grumbles. “No one’s making you look.”

“Would if I could,” A.I. Tony quips, but he doesn’t say anything else.

Peter, not in the mood to continue arguing with an A.I. that has Tony’s voice of all things, lets it go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> • In this fic, I used MCU’s version of Extremis, and the events of Iron Man 3 happened before Tony met Peter, just like in the MCU


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Tony A.I. explores further into Peter and Tony’s relationship and has a revelation that may shed light on Tony’s condition.

Peter gets the whole contingency plan thing. Tony wouldn’t be Tony, the Futurist, the genius who always thinks three thousand steps ahead of anyone in the game, if he didn’t anticipate and account for the event of his death. It’s morbid, but it’s Tony. Peter gets that.

But he could’ve done that with any old A.I. he’s got on prototype at the ready. Any of those could’ve stepped in Tony’s shoes and saved the world when he couldn’t anymore. Why inject his memories, his personality, his very essence of being into one?

“I know I was barely human even when I _was_ human, but I’m still pretty sure humans need to eat at some point, kid.”

“Hmm? I’m not-“ Peter glances up at the clock and sees it’s nearly 11pm. Now that he’s noticed it, he remembers that he hasn’t had anything to eat since late breakfast and he realizes how painfully his stomach is twisting. He’s been sitting at Tony’s bedside all day, going through both his and Tony’s logs for any clues, despite the Tony A.I. claiming he’s already gone through them and declared it useless.

“I ordered Thai for you. Not from your usual place. But I found a late-night one that had decent reviews.”

“You did?”

“Thai’s your comfort food. F.R.I.D.A.Y. told me.”

Peter stands up and stretches his sore muscles from sitting for hours. He leans over to kiss Tony on the forehead, brushing his fingers through the grey streaks on his temple. With one last look, he turns and leaves the room.

He finds boxes of takeout on the living room table and goes to sit there. “You and F.R.I.D.A.Y. talk often?” Peter asks, opening a box of green curry chicken.

“Not the way humans talk to each other. But we exchange data, ideas. I suppose you could call that conversation.” Holo-Tony materializes and makes his hologram self look like he’s sitting on the couch opposite Peter, keeping him company.

Peter goes through his very late dinner quietly. The A.I. doesn’t say anything either, but stays visible, just sitting there, watching him. It would’ve felt a little creepy, but Peter is tired, kinda drowsy from the food, and it almost feels like it’s really Tony keeping him company, the way they both could sit together in comfortable silence, just enjoying each other’s presence.

Peter finishes his food and leans back, head tilted up, resting on the back of the couch, staring up at the ceiling.

It’s so quiet in the compound. None of the other Avengers actually live here between missions, preferring somewhere a little more normal. Peter and Tony do out of convenience, out of proximity to the lab, constantly tinkering on the Avengers’ suits, weapons, transport vehicles. They were always working, but it was fulfilling, enjoyable work, and they get to spend so much time together that it never feels lonely.

But now Tony’s catatonic and Peter’s left all alone.

“What was I like after we got together?” Holo-Tony suddenly asks.

Peter looks at the A.I., “What? Why do you ask?”

“Scientific curiosity”

“You’re an A.I., you don’t have curiosity.”

“I suppose not. But it’ll help me figure Tony out, how to bring him back.”

Peter frowns. “How so?”

“We still don’t know what he’s done to himself. You’ve brought me here to put myself in his shoes, so to speak. I am him, after all, up to a point in time. I’m supposed to know how his brain works. And yet, this Tony baffles me. Something happened in the three years between my last update and now. I’ve scoured through all the footage I can find of him in that time, all the notes he’s logged, and out of all that, it seems the most likely answer that _you_ are the major life change that happened.”

“If you’ve studied his life in the past three years, then you know what he’s like. Why ask me?”

“I’m seeing it through me, which is to say, through Tony. It’s a skewed perspective. I’m biased.”

“I thought the point of a non-human machine was to be unbiased.”

“Why would you think that? Profiling algorithms used by law enforcement is some of the most discriminatory systems out there. Machines are incredibly capable of bias, reflecting especially the biases of their programmers.”

“Then I have a biased view of Tony as well. I’m only his boyfriend.”

“I wasn’t looking for a completely unbiased perspective. I just wanted a different one. Something to compare against my own interpretation of the existing data.”

Peter sighs. “Alright, fine. Can you be a little more specific though?”

“Okay. In your opinion, what’s the major difference between the Tony before you sank your hooks into him – A.K.A., me – and the Tony afterwards – A.K.A., him?”

“I’m guessing you mean in terms of mood, affect, behaviour, that sort of stuff, and not the more obvious ‘you’re a Force ghost and he’s a real flesh and blood person’”?

“Precisely.”

Peter takes a few moments to consider before saying, “Before we got together …,” Peter shifts uncomfortably. “Well, you know, you were there.”

“I know. But what did you think of me?”

“You mean, did I _like_ like you?” Peter asks sardonically.

“Oh, I _know_ you did. But what I mean is, what was your perception of me?”

Peter chews on his lower lip. “You’re unlike anyone I’ve ever known. I mean, I’ve always thought you were supercool, unfathomably confident, godly smart, and you’re _Iron Man_. You swept me off to Europe on an Avengers mission the first time we met. How could I not…” Peter trails off with a small smile, remembering the awestruck feeling having Tony Stark, _the Tony Stark_ , sitting in his dingy bedroom in Queens. He had looked so tired, deep bags under his eyes, a fresh-looking bruise surrounding one of them, but he still looked so devastatingly handsome.

“Then we got to know each other and I saw who you are under the armour, under those ugly colourful sunglasses-“

“You think they’re ugly?” The A.I. somehow manages to make his hologram face look like a kicked puppy about it.

“-and I liked you even more.” Peter’s smile grew playful. “They’re hideous, Tony. Those glasses don’t look good on anyone but you.” He fiddles with the hem of his sleeve. He thinks of Tony, of their late nights together, whispered words in the dark, confessions of secret thoughts and nightmares and the comforting touches that follow. “You’re not perfect. The more I got to know you, the more obvious that was. But somehow I … love you even more for it. There was nothing you could tell me or show me about yourself that could ever make me love you less. And I thought he knew that.”

Peter takes a deep breath. “I guess in the beginning it seemed like you got a lot of bravado going on, the grin and swagger you wear like armour when you’re not wearing your actual armour. But I feel like you’ve softened some after we got together. We talk. The smiles you have for me don’t look fake.”

Holo-Tony considers this for a moment. “You gotta admit how weird that sounds, right?”

“What?” Peter asks, confused. “What is?”

“Me. The idea that I would- You know I’ve never been super good at that stuff.”

“What stuff?”

Holo-Tony shrugs. “Opening up. Letting people in. How’d you do it?”

“I’m not sure I did,” Peter reminds him. “Tony kept this entire thing secret from me, remember?”

“Did he tell you about the E.D.I.T.H. prototype?”

“Yes. _Hate_ the name by the way.”

“And the House Party protocol? The Armor Map?”

“Yes and yes.”

Holo-Tony raises a translucent eyebrow at him. “ _No one_ knows about those. When shit hits the fan, everyone keeps asking me for answers, expecting me to have something up my sleeve already. But somehow no one wants to hear about how I got there. It’s an ugly truth, but in order to prepare for the worst, you gotta think the worst out of every situation, out of everyone.”

“That’s not what you do,” Peter disagrees. “You don’t think the worst of everyone. I know people say you don’t trust anyone and that’s why you keep people out. I know _you_ say that. But I think it’s more to do with your misplaced sense of self-sacrifice. You feel like you have to take care of everyone and you don’t want to be a burden. What you don’t get is that for the people who care about you, it’s not a burden at all. If you just let people share the weight of the world you’ve been carrying, then maybe you’ll find we can actually help.”

“Is that what you told him?”

“I’m paraphrasing, but yeah, pretty much.”

“And he believed you.” It wasn’t a question.

Peter shrugs tiredly. It really was getting late.

“Huh. I’ll be damned,” Holo-Tony huffs. It’s a little odd seeing an A.I. hologram look perplexed. But there he was, eyes wide the way Tony’s do whenever his own genius manages to mildly surprise him. “Tony does love you,” he says, sounding somewhat astonished.

“Well I sure hope so. It’d be a shame to have all the times he told me so to be lies,” Peter says blandly.

Holo-Tony regards him so seriously it’s almost comical. “I’m not sure you’re really appreciating the gravity of this revelation.”

“Look, this is old news. Tony’s already had his freak-out. I stuck by him, he worked through it. We’re still together. I thought this was all pretty obvious.”

“Hmm, if you say so.”

\--

_The Next Day_

“I can’t believe how whipped you got me.”

“What?”

Holo-Tony projected a series of photographs of Tony and Peter over the years, from official news releases related to Stark Industries events, to paparazzi shots of them on the streets or outside a restaurant holding hands, to selfies of them grinning and kissing from their personal phones.

“Me. Tony Stark. I don’t do this stuff.”

Peter rolls his eyes. “Maybe you just needed to meet the right person.”

The A.I. actually snorts.

“What, is it that hard to believe that Tony would wanna be with someone like me?” Peter asks indignantly.

“It’s not that. What’s hard to believe is that he’s managed to keep you for this long. I’m a handful, you know. Historically, I would’ve scared any prospective partner off by now, which is why I don’t usually let anyone get this far.”

Peter hums. “I guess I don’t scare easy.”

“Guess you don’t,” Holo-Tony muses, whipping through the photos at a speed even Peter’s enhanced sight couldn’t keep up with. He finally blinks them all out of existence and turns to Peter. “You know I was into you for ages before we got together?”

Peter smiles. “Yes, Tony told me.”

“I can’t believe I actually manned up and made a move on you.”

Peter chuckles. “You give yourself too much credit.”

“What, _you_ made the moves on _me_?”

“Yep, right here in this room.”

“Tell me about it.”

Peter looks at holo-Tony, an A.I., not a real person, but so human-like right now with how he’s staring earnestly at Peter, just like Tony used to, like nothing else in the world is as interesting. As though a machine could find anything interesting, really.

_2 Years Ago_

They’re in the lab at the compound, testing an upgrade on their suits. The Iron Spider’s got the nano-housing like Tony’s suit and spreads out to cover his body upon activation just like his does. They’ve been trying to solve the problem of speed. Just the previous week they were on a mission that saw Tony get thrown off a building before his suit fully activated. The nanosuit barely got the repulsors formed to zoom him to safety before he hit the ground with an ugly splat.

The suits needed to form quicker.

Tony’s problem is his size. He’s bigger, broader, a lot more surface area to cover. Peter’s problem is his penchant for baggy sweaters and loose pants. The nanoparticles struggle in their movement across the bunched up fabric.

“You need to start wearing tighter clothes, kid. You never wear those jeans I bought you-”

“But my legs look so skinny in them!” Peter complains.

“-and I could swear I got you some better fitting shirts. They’ve even got the stupid nerdy puns on them too. I thought you’d like that.”

“The problem isn’t the clothes, Tony. It’s the programmed movements of the particles. It doesn’t have to glide over the surfaces like that. We could have it jump out of the housing, then have it assemble to its designated place, you know, like the old Mark 42.”

“That’s too many variables, Pete. Your clothes are gonna get caught up in it, bunch up all uncomfortable.” Tony walks over to the cabinet and starts rummaging through it. He produces a black S.H.I.E.L.D. training shirt and a matching pair of stretchy yoga pants, tossing them at Peter. “Here, wear this. I’ll time it. We’ll see how much faster it is.”

Peter groans grumpily. He stomps towards the exit.

“Where are you going?”

“To the bathroom?” Peter says. “You told me to change!”

“No, that’s gonna take too long. Just do it here. I won’t look.”

“But-“

“Uh-uh. Turning,” Tony points to himself as he swivels towards his work bench so his back is to Peter. Then he points blindly over his shoulder. “Change.”

Peter huffs exasperatedly, but he starts stripping all the same. Keeping an eye on Tony’s back, he quickly changes into the tight-fitting workout clothes. It’s comfortable, definitely made for uninhibited movement, but he feels so exposed in it. He’s not Tony. The older man’s under armour is black, obscenely form-fitting, moulding handsomely over the thickly defined muscles of his broad body. He looks devastatingly masculine in those tights, while Peter looks like a small breeze could topple him over. And _he’s_ supposed to be the one with superpowers.

“Okay, done,” Peter says.

Tony turns around and kind of just looks at Peter for a bit, eyes flicking quickly down his chest, to his thighs. “Alright,” he says nonchalantly. “Put on the housing. Let’s test it out.”

Tony’s right, as usual. It’s a full 4 seconds faster for the suit to fully activate than when he’s in his usual clothes. And 4 seconds is an eternity when you’re in a life and death situation.

“See, doesn’t it also feel a lot more comfortable?” Tony walks over to him, pressing his hands over Peter’s shoulders, feeling how snug the armour is pressed against his body without any of his baggy clothes bunching under it. He continues pressing the armour, over Peter’s biceps, forearms, then just above his hips. Tony’s hands squeeze a little harder there, feeling the trim circumference of Peter’s waist.

Up close, Peter can see the way Tony’s throat moves as he swallows. Then when Tony looks up and catches Peter’s eyes, his enhanced sight hones in on the way Tony’s pupils dilate a little. Peter feels flushed but doesn’t move away. In fact, he wants to move closer, press himself against the hard line of Tony’s body. “I’m still not wearing your tight clothes,” Peter says, a soft murmur just inches away from Tony’s own lips.

Tony lets go of Peter’s waist and takes a step back. He clears his throat. “Yeah. Well. Take my card. Buy your own. At least wear something that’s your size. You need to wear clothes you can suit up over on the go. You won’t always be able to duck into the nearest alley to change.”

Peter taps the housing and watches the nanosuit retract back into the little component, as quick as it was deployed. “Why do you insist on making me look scrawny and unattractive?”

“Um, one, it’s to save your life. And two,” Tony waves a hand, gesturing over Peter’s form. “I beg to differ.”

“This? This is doing it for you? I look like a jazzercize instructor from the 80s.”

“You weren’t even alive in the 80s. Also, how is this different than your old superlatex suit? That thing leaves _nothing_ to the imagination.”

Peter blushes. “Yeah, but you can’t see my face.”

“Don’t get me wrong, kid, your face _is_ really pretty. But it’s impossible for anyone to not look at your ass when you’re in that suit.”

What is happening here? Is he really in a banter-fest with Tony Stark arguing the levels of his attractiveness? Peter’s not gonna lie, he’s into it. He wants more of it. He wants Tony to keep saying these things about him. He slowly steps closer to Tony, testing the waters. “No one? Not even you?”

Tony watches him warily, but there’s definite interest in his eyes. Peter isn’t imagining it. In his aroused state, with his senses dialed up to eleven, he can hear Tony’s heart beating a little faster, the breath catching in his throat the closer Peter gets to him.

“Especially not me,” Tony says hoarsely. His eyes flicker to Peter’s mouth and that’s about all he can take. Peter closes the final narrow gap between them and presses his lips to Tony’s.

It only takes half a second for Tony to kiss him back, mouth parted to capture Peter’s bottom lip between his. Tony’s hands go back around Peter’s waist and pulls him closer as Peter wraps his arms around Tony’s neck. They get lost in the kiss.

_Present Day_

“That was in the lab. That didn’t happen in this room.”

“Yeah we fucked later that night in this room.”

“Huh. Nice.” Holo-Tony makes a fist-bump over real-Tony’s knuckles. “How’d I do?”

Peter smirks. “Not bad. It certainly got me hooked.”

The A.I. looks like he wanted to say something more inappropriate as per his personality programming, but F.R.I.D.A.Y.’s voice comes on over the room’s speakers. “Peter, Dr. Cho has sent you the files that Tony’s A.I. requested.”

“What files?” Peter asks. F.R.I.D.A.Y. obliges by projecting a series of blood test reports and radiographic images in the room. “What is all this?”

“It’s Tony’s latest medical check up, from about a year ago. He has fatty liver disease, probably alcohol-related, but his triglyceride levels are also a little above normal.”

“He’s got high cholesterol?”

“It’s pretty common for guys our age, and not life-threatening at this level. It’s not something Dr. Cho would’ve worried about, especially since she’s in a high specialized field tending to superheroes and their wacky injuries.”

“Yeah, but...,” But Tony’s … Tony. He’s Iron Man. Founding member of the Avengers and the world’s greatest superhero. He doesn’t get mundane, human things like high cholesterol.

“You forget, I don’t _actually_ have superpowers. I’m just a guy in a suit.”

“You’re never just a guy in a suit,” Peter counters. “You’re a genius, billionaire-“

“Playboy, philanthropist? Nah, gotta change that ‘playboy’ part to ‘Peter’s’ now.”

Peter rolls his eyes, but smiles a little. Ever since the A.I. accepted that it is, in fact, entirely plausible for Tony to not only fall in love, but commit himself into a long-term relationship, he’s been rolling with it. He doesn’t show affection the way Tony does, he can’t feel it as an A.I., but he’s increasingly playful, letting it shine through the artificial personality.

“So what,” Peter says. “Tony gave himself superpowers so he doesn’t have to deal with shit like high cholesterol?”

“I told you, it was never about the superpower thing. He was just feeling his age. And it isn’t just the high cholesterol. He has the beginnings of osteoarthritis in both knees, a minor herniated disc in his lumbar spine, and pretty bad heartburn. It’s just a bunch of degenerative stuff that comes with the natural progress of time. All the stress and physical strain from the superheroics don’t help either.”

“He’s never told me any of this,” Peter says quietly, looking at Tony’s sedated form.

“He probably doesn’t wanna worry you. You’re young, Peter, you’re in the prime of your life and a superhero to boot. He probably just wants to keep up with you.”

“So what are you saying, this is my fault? He did this to himself for _me_?” Peter faces the A.I., sad and angry all at once.

The A.I. looks solemn. “No, this is entirely for selfish reasons. He wants to be with you, for as long as he can. He loves you. He wants a future with you, grow old with you, but he can’t do that if he’s already there.”

Peter’s eyes are stinging and he looks back at Tony. It’s ironic, the way he’s just lying there, lifeless and gaunt, that he looks much older than he is. He claims he wants a future with Peter but he kept things from him, did dangerous things behind his back and now he’s lying there _dying_. Where is their future now? Peter takes Tony’s slack hand in his and presses his lips to his knuckles, closing his eyes to prevent the tears from dropping.

“Okay. So what now? We know _why_ he did this. Do we know _how_?”

“Now that I’ve parsed his reasons, I can pretty accurately guess how he would go about doing it.”

“And?”

“Do you remember that incident with the Symbiote about a year ago?”

“Fuck. Goddamn it, Tony.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> • I need you all to read Civil War II and bask in the glory that is Tony’s tight black under armour thingy he wears under his suit.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter and the A.I. figure out how to bring Tony back with the help of a friend.

The Symbiote is a polymorphic alien life form that can fuse with a human host, essentially merging into a single entity. Ironically, in most cases, the bond is more parasitic, where the host, incapable of supporting the alien life within it, burns up and is left a dead husk while the alien moves on to find another host to latch onto. Sometimes though, like in the case of that journalist, true symbiosis is achieved and creates a being with superhuman abilities.

Spider-man took point on that mission a year ago, with Iron Man as back-up. Despite S.H.I.E.L.D.’s insistence on ‘efficiency’, they wanted to try, if at all possible to save the person the Symbiote latched on to. Once Spider-man figured out its weakness, Iron Man created a sonic blast that separated the Symbiote from its host then killed it.

Peter didn’t really think much about the charred, smoking black goo that was what remained of the Symbiote. He figured S.H.I.E.L.D.’s clean-up crew got rid of it, the way they always do after these missions. Tony certainly didn’t mention anything about it afterwards.

Now Peter is going through S.H.I.E.L.D.’s files on the Symbiote and curses. “That bastard hid his notes right under S.H.I.E.L.D.’s nose. He even altered the timestamps and everything.”

Holo-Tony nods. “He was interested in the way true symbiosis with the Symbiote cleared up any degenerative ailments the host might have had, ensuring a sustainable fusion, uninhibited by pesky human things like sickness and aging. He engineered the Symbiote’s matter into a virus, to theoretically “trick” his cells into becoming a suitably robust host for a Symbiote, but without an actual Symbiote fusing into him and without all the freaky superpowers.”

“He’s been doing this for months before the radiation accident. Was it working?”

Holo-Tony sighs. “No, it wasn’t. As we know, there’s a larger chance a host would burn up on exposure to a Symbiote. And that’s where Tony was on the luck belt, being consumed from the inside, albeit a lot slower than if he were attached to an actual Symbiote. The radiation accident did some major cellular damage, but it also probably saved him, incinerated all traces of the Symbiote virus in his cells. But the damage is done. What’s happening now is his body overcompensating in response to a combination of the Symbiote infection and the radiation exposure.”

“How do we fix it?”

Holo-Tony raises an eyebrow. “Know any experts on gamma radiation?”

\--

Ever since Bruce Banner returned to Earth, he retired from the Avengers and set up his own lab on the outskirts of the small town of Alpine, Utah. He keeps whatever he’s working on close to the chest, and the Avengers and S.H.I.E.L.D. mostly leave him alone, granting him the peace he wants. He’s been notified of Tony’s condition though and Peter knows that if there’s any way, Bruce would want to help.

“You sure about this?” Bruce asks over the video call Holo-Tony set up with Peter.

“Pretty damn,” Peter answers. “We’ve run it over with Dr. Cho as well, and she thinks it supports her findings.”

Bruce exhales heavily, the sound of it resonating through the audio. “Okay, well, I’m gonna need further testing, but just from looking through the files you sent over, I don’t think you need to worry about Tony turning into the Hulk. But he looks like he _needs_ someone like the Hulk in order to support the changes that’s going through his body.”

“What do you mean?” Peter asks. “I thought the Hulk happened _because_ of the radiation.”

“That seems to be the prevailing theory. But I’m … working on something else right now, and it requires an almost … philosophical, existential change of perspective.” Bruce looks uncertain, like he doesn’t want to tell Peter whatever it is he needs to say.

“It’s okay, I won’t tell anyone what you’re working on,” Peter assures him. “And this channel is secure.”

“It’s not that,” Bruce says, shaking his head. “I’m just … embarrassed, I guess. It took a while to wrap my mind around it, but preliminary tests seems to be going well so far.” Bruce sighs and begins to explain. “The Hulk being the product of gamma radiation is a theory, yes. Another theory is that the gamma radiation induced the manifestation of the Hulk from _within_ me, from whatever it is that’s already in my genetic code, and protected me from death by radiation. Any injury that happens to me as me, as Bruce Banner, the Hulk saved me from it. The radiation is just radiation, it’s not some superpower-generating secret ingredient. The ability to adapt and survive it is intrinsic to the person. That theory is the basis of what I’m working on. But that’s all I’m telling you about that, Peter, I’m sorry.”

“Okay,” Peter says slowly. “But this theory of yours, we can use it to save Tony?”

“If the principle holds true, Tony needs some kind of fortification against the Symbiote and gamma radiation damage, something on a molecular, genetic level. Something strong, like the Hulk.”

Peter glances at Holo-Tony.

“Didn’t you say Tony was looking at the Extremis files before the accident?” Holo-Tony sounds a little sheepish.

“ _You_ told me it had nothing to do with this,” Peter reminds him accusingly.

“I told you it wasn’t the problem,” Holo-Tony says defensively. “I didn’t know it was supposed to be the answer.”

“Wait, Extremis?” Bruce interrupts on screen. “You can’t be thinking about injecting Tony with that thing. It’s highly unstable! His body will-“

“Ehh, don’t worry about it, Banner,” Holo-Tony says dismissively. “We’ll modify it into a viral delivery system using the backbone from Tony’s Symbiote virus. It’ll be fine.”

“You’ve figured it out already?” Bruce asks sceptically.

“Figured it out on my first day, actually,” Holo-Tony mumbles, looking disgruntled.

“Bruce,” Peter calls out. “Thank you so much for your help. We’ll program it up and send you and Dr. Cho the schematics. Once we get the go ahead, we’ll administer it to Tony.”

\--

They followed Tony’s notes carefully. Dr. Cho did in vitro tests. The Tony A.I. ran computational models. They get it developed and it looks promising enough.

At Peter’s nod, Dr. Cho and her team slowly inject the serum into Tony’s IV line. Peter is standing in the far corner of the room, out of everyone’s way. There’s a crash cart at the ready, just in case.

Nothing happens.

“Vitals are holding,” Dr. Cho announces. “Start weaning off the sedatives.”

One of the doctors presses some buttons on the syringe pump, inputting a program that lowers the dose in increments.

“How long until it’s all out of his system?” Peter asks.

“It’s hard to say with the New Extremis in him, but I’d say soon, maybe an hour or two,” Dr. Cho answers. “We’ll stay here and keep him under close monitoring.”

Peter nods. He doesn’t leave the room either.

\--

1 hour and 19 minutes later, Tony’s brow furrows.

Peter sits up. “Tony?”

Everyone in the room tenses, watching back and forth between the monitors and Tony. The beeping from the monitor speeds up a little but holds steady, nothing erratic.

Peter chances to move closer, standing right next to Tony’s bed, taking his hand, holding it like he’s done every day that Tony’s been unconscious. Except this time, Tony’s fingers twitch and the hand grips weakly at Peter’s.

Peter chokes a sob, lifts their clasped hands and presses his lips on Tony’s knuckles. “Tony,” he urges. “Tony, it’s me, Peter. Can you hear me?”

Tony’s eyelids flutter open, and for the first time in so long, Peter is seeing those beautiful brown eyes again, looking his way, a little unfocused until recognition flickers across them. “Peter?” Tony’s voice is hoarse from disuse.

Tears are freely streaming down Peter’s face now, but he’s smiling. “Yeah, it’s me. I’m here, Tony.”

\--

It doesn’t take long until Tony is sitting up, completely lucid. It’s unbelievable.

Dr. Cho and her team run endless tests on Tony until finally he gets bored and kicks everyone out. They want to get him in the physical therapy lab to get data on his limits and full capabilities because preliminary tests have got him up there nearly to the level of Steve Rogers. Tony assures them that he'll indulge them all in good time, while Peter suspects he's waiting until Steve gets back to the compound then he'll test himself right against the man.

When the medical team finally leave, Tony excuses himself to the bathroom to freshen up as best he can. Peter waits in the room.

A few minutes later, Tony returns, buttoning up a fresh shirt. He looks so good that Peter wants to cry all over again. “Hey. Whose genius idea was it to set this up into a hospital room? It smells like sick old man in here.” He runs a hand through his dark hair and smiles.

Peter’s heart clenches at the sight. He walks over to the other man and runs his hands over his shoulders, smoothing out the non-existent wrinkles in the fabric. “We’ll stay in one of the guest rooms while they air this place out, if you want,” Peter says, looking up at Tony, smiling back. The man feels solid, strong. Peter kisses him, tasting toothpaste in Tony’s mouth.

Peter is relieved to be informed that Tony seems perfectly healthy, the New Extremis looks to be going through his systems without any adverse effects. He’ll still need to be monitored closely of course, but all the signs are promising.

Tony is delighted to find that his knees don’t hurt anymore, his blood cholesterol levels are normal, and his organs look like they belong to a 20-year-old athlete. He jokes about cracking open a celebratory tequila or two but gets an admonishing pinch to his side by a stern-looking Peter.

“Good to see you back, boss,” the Tony A.I. says, his hologram materializing in the living room. It’s so trippy seeing two Tonys standing there, sizing each other up.

“Good to know you took care of business while I was away,” Tony says. “What’s with the hologram?”

Peter arches his brows. “I thought you programmed him to do that.”

“Why would I do that? F.R.I.D.A.Y. doesn’t have a hologram.”

“Oops, busted,” Holo-Tony laughs. “What? I like to pretend I’m a real boy.”

“That’s not ominous at all,” Peter mutters, sitting down on the couch.

“Though you gotta admit, it’s pretty on brand of me.” Tony sits down next to Peter, an arm slung over his shoulder. “I did program my personality into the thing. If I were an A.I., I’d totally project my hologram everywhere.”

Holo-Tony spreads his arms like, _see?_

Peter chuckles, facing Tony. “You know, Riri said the same thing.”

Tony kisses him, quick and soft. “How is she, by the way? Is she enjoying my constant company?”

“Nope, she kicked you out,” Peter answers matter-of-factly.

Tony turns to his holo-self, who confirms, “she did. Said we’re _annoying_.”

“Blasphemy,” Tony comments as Peter laughs. Tony smiles a him, squeezing him closer. Peter is so happy to have him back, his heart could burst with it. There’s so many things they need to talk about but right now, all he wants is this, Tony, awake, healthy, happy, and looking at him like he’s everything in the world.

“So Boss, can we address the elephant in the room? And I’m not talking about the massive boner you’ve got going for Peter right now. Hey, we perfected the super-soldier serum! People have been trying to figure this out for centuries! We-“

“Okay, I’m starting to get the annoying part.” Tony taps something on his watch and Holo-Tony fizzles out of sight mid-sentence. Then he goes back to kissing Peter, deep and fervent, pushing him down on the couch cushions.

\--

Tony was about to pull the plug, so to speak, on the A.I., clicking the enter key that would disconnect him from F.R.I.D.A.Y.'s all-encompassing connection and return him to Tony's box of toys, when Peter says, "This feels a little wrong."

"Why?" Tony asks.

Peter looks uncertain. "I don't know. It's just ... Why did it have to be you? I get why you would create someone- something to take over or finish your work or whatever if you're ... you know. But your other A.I.s aren't ... people." Peter pauses. "Unless ... was J.A.R.V.I.S. ..."

"No," Tony says. "That’s just a namesake. Edwin Jarvis didn't supply any of himself to the cause. J.A.R.V.I.S. does have personality, but it was developed organically ... so to speak." Tony fidgets. "You're asking why I made myself into an A.I.?"

"Basically. Seeing him talking, walking around looking exactly like you, while you were in a coma ... It kinda fucked with my head a little," Peter admits. "It was hard to separate the two of you. Not to mention as an A.I., he's literally everywhere. With F.R.I.D.A.Y., there's a sense of comfort because, you know … that's what she's always been. She's the eye in the sky. It's hard to think about the A.I. version of you as just an A.I. because I'm seeing him as you, a person, when he's not." Peter winces. "He's probably listening to all this right now."

Holo-Tony materializes into view. "No offence taken," he says. "You're right. I'm not actually a person."

Tony gestures at his hologram double. "And I'm guessing all this light show didn't help."

Holo-Tony shrugs. "In my defence, I truly didn't think it would affect anyone this much. Which means you didn't think so either, at least back when you last updated me. Obviously this whole thing with Peter is a little out of left field."

"Obviously," Peter grumbles, crossing his arms.

"Should I just go?" Holo-Tony asks, mostly to Peter. "I don't wanna make it weird for you."

Peter shakes his head morosely. "It's already weird."

Tony is looking between Peter and his holo-self with an unreadable look on his face. "Look, can you give us a minute, here?" he tells the A.I. after a while. "Just turn off your ears for a few moments while Peter and I talk."

"Sure thing, boss," Holo-Tony says easily. He points a translucent blue finger at Tony. "You better tell him."

"I know," Tony says.

“ _Everything,_ ” the A.I. emphasizes.

“ _I know,_ ” Tony repeats before his holo-self fizzes out of sight. He sits on the chair next to his workbench while Peter remains standing.

"See, that? That's weird," Peter points out. "How am I not supposed to see him as a real person when you're asking him if he could very kindly give us some space?"

"I know. I know you get attached easily. I saw how quickly you and Karen-"

"This is _nothing_ like Karen! I've only ever known Karen as a disembodied voice in my mask. This is _you_. He is _you_."

“I’m sorry.” Tony looks up at Peter, eyes deep with remorse. "I'm sorry, I didn't think. I truly didn't mean for any of this to happen and the last thing I ever wanna do is hurt you-"

"So why did you do it?" Peter asks quietly. "Why is he you?"

Tony sighs heavily. "It's not ego, believe it or not." He huffs dourly. "Well, not in the way you might think anyway. I just needed a backup plan. I know it sounds superbly vainglorious, but how could I live- how could I _die_ knowing that the world could be in danger and I can’t do anything about it cause I'm not there, cause there isn't anything else like me out there to fix it ..."

"You're saying your usual A.I.s aren't brilliant enough? It has to be you, your brain in there?"

"I've made mistakes, Peter. It's not enough to be brilliant. You need restraint. I know that sounds like big talk coming from me. Look at the shit I've done. But that's what I mean. Without restraint you get things like Ultron, the Axis Effect, and those were such close calls. I mean, right this second I have dozens of ideas knocking around in my head that could destroy the world in so many different ways. And it's not just me. Ask any genius who's not a supervillain. But how do you program morality? Especially when people still can't decide the lines in the sand. And who knows? Maybe I will figure it out one day. But for the moment, there's no way to get the full power of this thing-" Tony taps his temple. "-safely out into the world without the rest of me. It can't be done."

Peter crosses his arms. “And you didn’t tell me because …”

“Honestly?” Tony grimaces. “I didn’t think it was important. I didn’t think it _mattered_.”

“You didn’t think it mattered to the people who love you that if you were in a coma – that if you were _dead_ – having a walking, talking, ghost of yourself _replacing you_ would mess with our heads just a little bit?”

“Well if you put it that way …” Tony mutters.

They’re both silent for a while until Peter sighs. “Look, obviously you don’t have to share with me every minute detail of your life. But I’d like to think you’d at least let me know about the important things.” Peter scowls. “Though it seems like you don’t really have a proper gauge on what is or isn’t a big deal. The Symbiote virus? Please don’t tell me you thought experimenting on yourself wasn’t a big enough deal to talk to me about it.”

“Yeah, no, that’s …” Tony says quietly. “That’s on me. I knowingly kept that from you. I knew you’d be mad. That you wouldn’t agree. I didn't want you to get mad at me. Or ... leave. And most of all, I didn't want you to stop me. I'm selfish, Peter. I wanted it to be me. I wanted to be the one by your side, for as long as I can manage.”

Peter closes his eyes and rubs frustratedly at his temples. “And that’s another thing. You are honestly so fucked up, you know that?” He regards Tony with a pained look. “Your A.I. solved the Extremis problem without breaking a virtual sweat so I know you must’ve figured it out too. And I know you’ve been looking at the files. It would’ve worked, he said it himself. Look at you now, the New Extremis patched you up just fine. You could’ve just used that from the beginning and save yourself the trouble. You didn’t need to risk _nearly dying_ from the Symbiote virus. But you didn’t want any of this, did you? The superpowers. You joke about it now, but you hate the idea of it.”

Tony gives him a small, wry smile. “Do I look like someone who needs more power? I already have more than the average person in … literally everything else. Do you know what I’m capable of already? What if having actual physical power to go with it is what pushes me over the edge? But at the same time, I’m getting _old_ and it’s just … I know, I’m selfish-”

“No,” Peter smiles at him sadly. “You’re actually _not_. That’s what makes this whole thing just so …” He looks away, sighing heavily.

He wonders what it feels like to be Tony. The responsibility that comes with great power, Peter understands that all too well. But this isn't just about not stopping a mugging on the streets of Queens when you could have. The power that Tony has is unimaginable, and the responsibility that comes with all that money, all that intellect, is proportionately monumental. And yet, he's just one man, flawed and neurotic, with very human vices and vulnerabilities, and he knows that.

“I think I’m the selfish one in this situation,” Peter admits. “I wish I could honestly say that I’m sorry we did this to you, knowing how much you didn’t want this, knowing how much you put on the line to avoid it. But you’re back now. And I can’t ever feel sorry about that.”

Tony stands and walks over to Peter, brushing a stray curl of hair out of his face. He presses a kiss to Peter’s forehead and Peter closes his eyes. No, he’ll never feel sorry about this.

“You’re the last person who needs to be sorry about anything,” Tony tells him. “You were just cleaning up yet another one of my messes. For someone who tries so hard to anticipate problems, I sure have a real knack of causing them.” Tony kisses him, sweet and compelling, and Peter can’t help but sink into it for the moment, his entire soul yearning for closeness.

Peter releases a sigh as Tony kisses his neck. “You’re the most brilliant man I know, Tony Stark, and that big brain of yours gets you in trouble sometimes.” He pulls away slightly with a hand on Tony’s chest. “For all your brilliance, I don’t know how to make you understand that I’m … I’m _here_ for you. For everything. I _get_ you. If you let me in, I'll see you, all of you, and I'll get it. You don’t have to worry about me leaving because I won’t. Ever. Nothing you say could ever drag me away from you.”

“Wild horses and all that?” Tony quirks a smile.

Peter returns it with a smile of his own. “Hey, even I know that song.”

Tony regards him thoughtfully, searching his eyes. "I can't stop how I am."

"I know."

"I'll tell you about everything, everything that's in the works, if you want me to, from now until forever. But nothing's changed. I'll still be ... the way I am."

"I know, Tony." Peter kisses him. "I know. I'm still not leaving."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's the end of the story, folks. Ngl, it was incredibly difficult for me to write up Peter and Tony's conversation in the end. I wrote and re-wrote it so many times, moved things around, until I found something I was happy with. I hope the story came across, and if not, well, I'm sorry. 
> 
> There's still one more chapter which is just an epilogue of smut, Peter and Tony's reunion of emotional love-making of sorts. It doesn't add to the plot of the story so if you're not into that stuff, this is the place to stop, and thank you so much for reading and following the story. If you are, I hope you enjoy the extra short chapter.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Epilogue: Peter and Tony make love in a heartfelt reunion

Peter strips off his shirt and stands between Tony’s legs from where he’s sitting at the foot of the bed.

“You’re so beautiful, baby,” Tony says reverently, hands on Peter’s waist, caressing up his stomach, his chest.

Peter leans down to kiss him, hands cupping possessively over Tony’s jaw, tilting him up into position. They kiss deeply, lips sliding and mouths parted, hungry for each other. Tony’s hands grip Peter’s ass, pulling him closer, sucking kisses on his neck. Peter sighs in pleasure, feeling Tony’s mouth moving across his heated skin, down his chest, letting out a soft whimper when Tony’s tongue flicks at his nipple. Tony unbuckles Peter’s jeans and takes out his cock, stroking it a few times before leaning forward and taking it in his mouth.

Peter hisses, feeling himself harden fully in the wet, slippery heat of Tony’s mouth. It’s so fucking good. Tony is sloppy and eager, taking him in so deep, swirling his tongue over the head in a delicious wet slide that drives Peter crazy. His head bobs up and down, Peter’s cock hitting the back of Tony’s throat with each movement. Peter grips at Tony’s hair, groaning aloud at the way the other man is working his dick so good.

Peter pulls him off, watching the way Tony looks up at him through his long dark lashes, lips all slick and pink, and Peter can’t help but kiss him, hard and dirty, pushing him back onto the bed. They undress each other quickly, kissing all the way until they’re both naked and hard, moaning at the feeling of their bare skin gliding against each other.

Tony rolls them over, laying Peter out on the bed. Peter spreads his legs in invitation, Tony smiling as he runs his hands under his thighs, turning to kiss the side of his knee. Tony’s trimmed beard is a prickly sensation on the sensitive skin of Peter’s inner thighs as the man trails loving kisses up them. He’s mouthing at Peter’s cock again, spreading his thighs higher and wider until he reaches the aching centre of him. Peter arches up with a cry when he feels Tony’s tongue there, licking him open.

Tony drops an affectionate kiss on Peter’s thigh. “Hand me the lube?” he asks. Peter quickly finds the bottle they brought in before tossing it at the other man. Tony opens him up with slick fingers, kissing him through it, swallowing Peter’s moans when he grazes against his prostate.

“You feeling good, baby?” Tony murmurs, three fingers deep now, stroking his insides with deliberate, persuasive movements.

“Uh-huh,” Peter breathes. “I’m ready for you.”

Tony obliges, retreating his fingers and lining up his cock against Peter’s slicked open hole, pushing in slowly. Peter’s mouth falls open as he takes it, feeling the stretch of it invading him, filling him up until all he can feel is Tony around him, above him, inside him. He watches Tony’s eyes flutter as he sinks into him.

“Oh shit, you feel so good,” Tony exhales. He shifts his hips minutely, digging his cock as deep as it can go, making a home inside Peter’s body. He doesn’t move just yet, just hovers over Peter and gazes down at him with a wistful, unguarded look.

“What?” Peter murmurs, hand coming up to trace Tony’s angular jawline.

“I love you,” Tony says, kissing him. “You’re too good to me. I don’t know what I did to deserve you, but God, I-” He kisses Peter’s neck, rolling his hips a little, making him whimper. “You’re everything, Pete. You have no idea how much I need you.”

Peter needs him too. It should probably scare him how much he needs him, how utterly broken he’d be if Tony ever … If he never got to have him like this again, to never be close to him again, to never feel like this ever again. Peter grips him tighter, tilting his head up to kiss him, hungrily, desperately, legs coming up to wrap around Tony’s lower back, angling him deeper, craving that closeness.

Tony starts thrusting into him with slow, deep movements, hitching Peter’s thighs up, practically folding the younger man in half as he drives ever harder into him. Peter moans with every forward movement of Tony’s hips, powerful and steady, the head of his cock nudging deliciously at his prostate.

“Tony, please,” Peter groans. “I need-” He grasps at firm curve of Tony’s lower back, the solid pace of his thrusting driving him crazy, urging the man to fuck into him harder, faster.

Tony grabs Peter’s hands and holds them above his head. There’s a predatory glint in the older man’s eyes, something raw and hungry that Peter shivers with it. He tests the grip and finds that he can’t get out of them. For the first time, Tony is overpowering him and it’s turning him on so much. “Tony-,” Peter whines.

“It’s alright, baby boy,” Tony murmurs, low and seductive. “I’ve got you.” He picks up the pace, thrusting into him harder.

Peter is overwhelmed. Tony’s dick is moving inside him, he’s invading his every senses, he’s everywhere, hands gripping all over his body, mouth pressing messy kisses on his skin, Tony’s in him, around him, making them one with each other and he wants it to stay like this forever. Peter holds Tony close, not able to imagine ever letting go. He moves his hips, taking Tony’s cock deeper, deeper into him.

“Tony-“ Peter pants, feeling the other man’s cock hitting his prostrate with every bounce of his ass. “Tony, please.” Peter kisses him desperately. “Please don’t ever leave me again. Promise me.” He begs between kisses, over the sounds of their bodies slamming into each other, meeting with every thrust. “Never leave me again, Tony. I can’t- ah!”

“Oh, baby, I won’t,” Tony promises, kissing him fervently. “Not ever. I’m so sorry, baby. I’m here. I’ll always be here.”

Peter’s nails dig into Tony’s shoulders as they kiss. “You’re mine,” he mumbles against Tony’s mouth.

“I’m yours,” Tony agrees, hands squeezing at Peter’s flexing thighs. “I’m all yours, baby. Forever and ever. I’ll always be yours.” He guides the swivelling movements of Peter’s hips, working his cock into him with broken grunts.

Peter keeps breaking their kisses with his moaning, but he continues to nip at Tony’s lips, the stubbly line of his jaw, his neck, his shoulders. Tony is touching him all over, grazing fingers over his sensitive nipples, eliciting a whine from Peter whenever he lightly pinches the pink, raised buds. The fire is building brighter and hotter in his gut and he chases after it, taking his pleasure until he explodes, coming hard with a sob underneath Tony’s relentless thrusts.

“I love you,” Tony gasps, rhythm stuttering at the tight grip of Peter’s orgasm but he fucks him through it, crying out as his body stiffens over Peter’s, coming hard inside him.

They slow down, breathing hard, trembling and covered in sweat. Tony gently slips himself out of Peter and lies down next to him, gathering the younger man in his arms as they settle intertwined on the bed.

“And I love _you_ ,” Peter whispers against Tony’s chest, burrowing himself close, feeling the other man’s arms squeeze harder around him at the words.


End file.
